


maybe try taping a GPS to it

by abandonedquiche (chlorinetrifluoride)



Series: Under(grad)tale [10]
Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Humantale, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-14
Updated: 2017-08-14
Packaged: 2018-12-15 10:25:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 668
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11804121
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chlorinetrifluoride/pseuds/abandonedquiche
Summary: Chara, you really should never try to make anything more complicated than instant ramen, because whenever you do, disaster ensues. Your friend, Berger, the only person you is more of an asshole than you are, well, he's running irreverent commentary on your attempts to cook something edible. Regular Thursday.





	maybe try taping a GPS to it

**Author's Note:**

> I wanted to show members of the unofficial squad in this series interacting over something decidedly not tragic.  
> Not tragic aside from Chara and their culinary abilities, anyway.

You're trying to make dinner for the usual suspects, for your Thursday night "family" dinner. _Trying_ being the operative word.

You have the distinct impression that you are fucking this up royally, but you don't want to ask Frisk for help, because they're sitting at the kitchen table doing their homework. Berger's the first to get back from his evening classes - you have no idea how he got in, since he doesn't officially live here, unless he stole Ragel's ID card again. Berger gives you a nod of acknowledgement when he notices you.

He walks over to see what you're cooking, unlit cigarette in his mouth. If it falls into the pot, you'll curse him here to The Ruins. Once he takes a whiff of what you’re simmering, he immediately seems regretful about it.

“Smells like drunk person vomit, man. Congratulations. I have no idea what you’re even  _trying_ to make.”

Oh, Berger.

“And you’d be intimately familiar with that smell, I assume,” you snap.

“Well, yeah,” he says. “I’m friends with you, aren’t I?”

You punch him in the arm. Like he doesn't drink a six pack of beer on the weekends, and then go partying with the Delta Omicron Gamma frat. You throw a punch almost as hard as Undyne, and he winces.

Frisk snorts from their seat at the table."

"Where in God's name is Bob or Ragel when you need them?" he asks. "I'd take waffles over this."

"Still in class."

“So why aren’t we letting the little weirdo make dinner?” Berger asks.

Frisk has been the "little weirdo" to him ever since he beheld how  _enthusiastic_ they were about attending this school, and about life in general. He cannot fathom such genuine, positive emotions.

You throw your hands up.

“Because I wanted to be useful, for once.”

“You’re already useful, surprise, surprise. And I hate to break it to you, but you couldn’t cook anything if you had a recipe book duct-taped to a GPS.”

You do your level best not to laugh,

“What would the GPS even do?” you ask.

“Fuck if I know. Tell you what to do?” He pretends to intone in a cool, robotic voice, “In five minutes, maybe don’t stir Drano in with the tomato sauce.”

“That’s exactly what I did. Don’t you know I’m trying to kill all of you?”

“Shit, you’re stepping your game up. Good for you. Let me know when you’re actually planning to kill me, I’ll volunteer for it,” he says. “At least I know I’m not going to Hell.”

“You’re all out of vacation days?” you offer.

It was something he told a professor once, being supremely hungover at the time. It immediately achieved meme status among your friends. In terms of epic things the people in your friend group have said, it's up there with Asriel getting completely hammered and declaring himself "The Absolute God of Hyperdeath".

“Well, I’m already here and everything. Kind of a waste for me to die, just to live out my eternal damnation in the same spot,” Berger figures.

"No, your eternal damnation would be working in the Hotland dining hall for the rest of eternity. With Mettaton videos playing on the TV set."

"Stop giving God suggestions."

At some point, you abandon your attempt and offer to call out for pizza. And while Berger can be a royal dick, he does have a soul rattling around in him somewhere. You two stand outside, waiting for the takeout to arrive, and he gives you a little grin of commiseration.

"Look on the bright side," he says. "You're not as bad as Undyne."

You don't get it.

"In what way?"

"So this one time, back when she was in undergrad, she was trying to make... something. Nobody knows what the hell it was, to this very day. I don't even think she does," he explains. "But she was so _passionate_ about her cooking that she accidentally set the kitchen in her wing on fire."

Sounds about right.


End file.
